


Reunion

by latelight



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Delirium, M/M, felix: i will lie dying in your arms but i will be hateful about it, long repressed childhood crushes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 19:50:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20431511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latelight/pseuds/latelight
Summary: Felix takes a lance to the stomach. Dimitri waits with him for help to arrive.





	Reunion

Felix had not been aware that he was willing to die for Sylvain.

Apparently his body knew. He saw the second bandit coming from behind Sylvain, and Sylvain still occupied with the first, and then he was already in front of the lance. It sunk into his stomach like a knife going through a grapefruit.

“Felix!” he heard someone shout. He was staring up at the sky in a daze. There was the sound of metal tearing through flesh, and something wet splashed onto his clothes.

Sylvain’s face appeared in front of him, panic-stricken. “Felix, you idiot!” Then he disappeared before Felix could kill him for making him die for him.

“Watch over Felix!” Sylvain said from somewhere above. “I’m going to find the others.” 

“Is he injured?” Dimitri’s voice. “Take him with you, we don’t know how far they are.” 

“He’s—I don’t think we can get him on a horse.”

Dimitri’s face blocked out the sky for only a moment before it, too, disappeared. “Go, I’ll stay here.” Horse hooves sounded nearby and then faded away. Felix squinted, processing that Sylvain had left. When he refocused he saw that Dimitri’s face was back.

“Felix,” he was saying, voice steady. “Felix, it’s alright. Sylvain will be back with a healer.” 

Felix groaned. He was tired of hearing his own name. He was going to die here, on the ground in this stupid forest with the lance of some petty bandit in his gut and only the boar to witness his final moments, and his father was going to hear about it and say _He died a noble death_.

He raised a hand with effort. Dimitri reached out for him, but Felix batted him aside weakly. He found the base of the lance where it had sunk into himself and tried to pull. Dimitri pried his fingers off. 

“Felix, you can’t,” he said. “You’ll bleed out.” 

Felix gave up, closing his eyes. In this state Dimitri would only overpower him if he tried. “My sword,” he grunted. “Give it to me.” 

There was no answer. Felix cracked open his eyes and saw on Dimitri’s face that he was warring with himself. He probably thought Felix would die the instant he had his sword safely in hand. He was wrong. Felix was going to use it to kill Sylvain. Then he was going to kill the professor for splitting the class up into two, and finally he was going to kill the rest of the bandits who had used the confusion of the forest to divide them even further. When had bandits become so good at strategizing?

“I’m right here,” Dimitri reassured him.

“I didn’t ask,” said Felix.

“Sylvain will be back soon.”

“Let go of me, boar.”

“I can’t let you take the lance out,” Dimitri said.

Felix had already forgotten about that agenda. He closed his eyes again and tried to ignore that Dimitri was holding his hand like he was a bedridden maiden in one of those awful books Ashe was always reading.

“Felix!” said Dimitri, intent on depriving him of a quiet rest. “Don’t close your eyes.”

Damn you, thought Felix. He opened his eyes, but there was nowhere else to look but at the underside of Dimitri’s chin; he was scanning the distance for something. Whenever he glanced back down at Felix his face was serious.

“Can’t believe…the boar's face is the last thing I’ll see.”

“You’re not going to die here.” 

Felix hacked out a wet cough. It was a mistake. Dimitri finally released his hand, only to shift Felix half onto himself, propping his head and torso up. 

Unable to fight this development, Felix lay there feeling hysteria bubble up in himself. Not only was he going to die impaled like a piece of meat on a skewer, he was going to do so in the boar’s arms. Then the boar would add his corpse to the pile he was already carrying on his back and his name to the list he muttered in his sleep. He wanted to laugh. He didn’t even have the strength to push him away.

“Is that more comfortable?” asked Dimitri, worried, as if there wasn’t a lance sticking out of him. Now Felix really did laugh. “Don’t,” warned Dimitri, eyebrows drawing together. “You’re moving too much.”

“It hurts,” Felix lied. “You’re killing me faster, boar.” 

Dimitri’s frown deepened and he adjusted his hold on Felix, but he didn’t put him back on the ground. Felix shut up. If he coughed again there was no telling what Dimitri would think to do next.

He could sense Dimitri’s distress rising. The forest was dense and unfamiliar. Sylvain not only had to find Mercedes or the professor, who were possibly dealing with bandits still, but also find his way back. He had been gone a long while now.

“Perhaps I should just carry you,” Dimitri muttered, half to himself. 

Felix cast his hand out and it landed on Dimitri’s thigh. He dug his fingers in as hard as he could, hoping to incapacitate him. “Don’t...you dare.”

“No,” Dimitri said in agreement, shaking the idea off. “It will be faster if we wait for help.” He plucked off Felix’s hand like he was removing a fallen leaf, even though Felix had been exerting all the force he could muster.

From this distance Dimitri took up even more of his field of vision. Having no other options, Felix watched him detachedly. Dimitri did not seem to notice, occupied as he was with searching for a sign of movement in the trees or else checking that Felix was conscious. Occasionally his gaze moved past Felix’s face and rested briefly on his stomach, though his mouth thinned whenever he looked at it, not liking what he found. Felix realized the dull pressure there was Dimitri pressing a hand around the wound.

“Give up,” Felix said, trying to keep the gurgle out of his throat. “You’ll…make it worse. You don’t know your own strength, boar.”

For the first time since he had joined Felix on the ground, frustration crossed Dimitri’s features. “Why must you be so stubborn?” he said. “I know that you hate me, Felix, but I can't let you die here.” He took a breath and collected himself. “You shouldn't talk so much. Save your strength.” 

What was Felix going to save his strength for? No one was coming for them. He had already resigned himself to dying his humiliating death here. The calm act Dimitri was putting on was wasted on him; it probably served himself more than Felix. Anyone could see he was struggling to keep that human mask in place. 

Come on, Felix thought. Snap, boar. Give me a reason to hate you to the end. Let me die knowing he’s already gone.

“Felix!” Dimitri was passing a hand in front of his face, trying to get his eyes to focus. 

Felix blinked. Dimitri’s glove was red with something wet and bright. There was so much of it, he didn’t know what it was at first. 

“Is that mine?” he whispered.

“No,” said Dimitri, pulling his hand back swiftly. “From earlier, when I was fighting one of the bandits.” The pressure returned at Felix's stomach. Dimitri was wearing a look of grim concentration, but it smoothed over when he met Felix's eyes. “Don’t worry, they’re gone now. You can talk, if it would help you stay alert.” 

“What do I talk about,” said Felix, already dazed at the pace of the conversation.

“Anything you’d like.” 

Felix’s head spun. A moment ago it seemed to have been filled with thoughts, but now they had all fled. That was fine, he didn’t want to talk. Above him Dimitri was alternately glancing around and tending to something at his stomach out of sight. Felix stared. His eyes were very blue, hair falling into them whenever he looked down. Dimitri had always been handsome. Even looking as he did now, even with dirt on his face and sweat tracked through that.

“Sylvain will be back soon,” Dimitri kept repeating. Felix couldn’t think why they were waiting for him; Sylvain was three years older than them and had his own things to do. He and Dimitri had always managed fine on their own.

“I’m dead,” Felix realized.

“You’re not,” Dimitri corrected him firmly.

“If not,” Felix said, “Why are you here?”

“You’re not making any sense,” Dimitri said, then added under his breath, “What could be taking them so long?” 

“Dimitri.”

Dimitri froze. No longer concerned with their surroundings, he finally turned his attention onto Felix, allowing Felix to look his fill.

“You left me…” said Felix.

“Felix, I’m right here.” 

“…with the boar...” 

Dimitri’s already pale face whitened. 

“You left me,” Felix repeated, the breath crawling into and out of his chest.

He had upset Dimitri. Fear and anger were flickering on his face. That seemed unfair; he was the one who should be apologizing to Felix. “It’s okay,” Felix said. “Just…make it up to me.” 

“Felix, snap out of it,” Dimitri said. “Sylvain will be back with help. Just a little longer.”

Felix’s vision was going black at the edges. He resisted, staring at Dimitri’s face. It was so nice to look at it was embarrassing. Even with that terrible expression. “Thought I’d never see you again,” he rasped. “Thought you’d be happier…to see me.” 

“Come on,” Dimitri growled. “Come on, Felix, snap out of it.” 

He sounded desperate. A thought broke out of the fog in Felix’s head. “Is it…me you’re worried about?”

Dimitri’s grip on him tightened. Dimitri was holding him. Felix felt dizzy. “It is,” he said, hearing the laugh in his own voice. “Isn’t it.”

“Not you too,” Dimitri said. Felix could no longer see him. But from his voice he knew he was right. “Felix, not you too…” 

When Felix next opened his eyes he saw blond hair and a worried face.

“Oh,” breathed Mercedes, looking down at him. “Oh, Felix. We thought we were…” 

Felix stared at her, uncomprehending. His throat felt like it had been filled with sand.

“He’ll be alright now,” said Mercedes shakily, and drew back. Suddenly Dimitri’s face was in view. He was holding Felix half in his lap.

Felix pushed himself off so fast he saw stars. He landed face down on the forest floor. 

“Felix!” said a number of voices at once. There was a dull but insistent pain in Felix’s gut, like he had been stabbed. He _had_ been stabbed. He crawled up onto his knees and heaved blood. 

“No, Sylvain!” said Mercedes. “He’s still—”

A hand was at his shoulder, turning him over. Felix sat back and came face to face with Sylvain. He had never seen him so furious before in his life. 

“Why?” said Sylvain, gripping both his shoulders with such intensity that Felix reeled backward. “You idiot, what were you thinking? Were you thinking at all? Felix, I thought you were _dead_ when we got here—”

“Sylvain!” Mercedes pulled him away, leaving Felix to catch his breath on the ground. “Please, you’ll hurt him! I did all I could, but he lost a lot of blood. He’s still weak.” 

Felix cleared his throat. He said scratchily, “Well, I didn’t die. So.” 

Mercedes restrained Sylvain again before he could undo all of her hard work. “Sylvain, we need to get him back to the monastery.” 

“Right.” Sylvain was breathing hard. “Right. We’ll get you nice and patched up, Felix, and then…” 

Felix shut his eyes. “I saved your life, didn’t I?” The pain turned in his stomach nauseatingly. “You could stand to be a little nicer to me.” 

“Does it hurt very badly?” Mercedes was at his side, checking his pulse and feeling his forehead. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more. Oh, Felix, we thought you…when we got here, and Dimitri was…” 

The boar. Felix opened his eyes. He was sitting exactly as Felix had left him, hands still upturned. They were covered in blood, so much so that he might have just bathed them in a fountain of it. Felix dragged his gaze upward. Dimitri’s eyes were blank for only a moment before his face relaxed into a smile.

“Felix,” he said. He sounded as if he hadn't used his voice in a long time. “I’m glad you’re alright.” 

Suddenly Felix was so ill he thought the lance might still be in him. He bent and hacked up fresh blood onto the ground. 

“Oh, dear!” said Mercedes. “Sylvain, you should take him and go. Gentle now…” 

“Okay.” Hands were at his sides, lifting him up. “I’ve got you,” Sylvain said, temporarily forgetting his desire to kill Felix. That suited Felix well enough. He swayed on top of the horse for a moment before Sylvain swung himself up in front of him.

“Hold on,” Sylvain ordered him. Felix clutched onto his clothing reluctantly.

Sylvain circled his horse around to look at Mercedes and Dimitri. “Will you two be alright? We’ll find the professor and the others on our way back and send them your way.” 

“Don’t worry about us,” said Mercedes. “Hurry, Felix doesn’t look good.” 

Felix stared over Sylvain’s shoulder. Dimitri looked back at him. Some of the color had returned to his face, and he was still smiling that tired smile. But the way he sat there unmoving and covered in blood, Felix could believe he was the one who had nearly died.

“Okay. We’ll see you back at the monastery.” Sylvain tugged the reins and then they were moving. 

Felix waited for Sylvain’s tirade to begin.

But they rode in silence for a stretch. Sylvain reached behind himself for Felix’s hands, still gripping gingerly onto the back of his clothes, and wrapped them around his own waist. “Here,” he said. “Is that more comfortable?” 

Felix’s entire face burned.

“You can lean on my back,” Sylvain said, oblivious to Felix's head slowly unclouding. “We’ll be there in no time. Just hang on.”

He remembered the feeling of Dimitri’s arms around him. What had Felix said to him? Anything could have come out of his mouth; he had been so happy to bleed out on the forest floor looking up at that face filled with concern for him, for Felix. The face he had woken up to could have belonged to another man entirely. No, not a man. Felix had only glimpsed it before he had thrown himself off. But those eyes had been empty, devoid of light altogether, the eyes of a wild animal. It had been the boar holding Felix that he had liked so much, not Dimitri. Dimitri was long gone. He wasn’t coming back.

“You’re such an idiot,” Sylvain was saying softly, over and over. “You’re such an idiot, Felix.”

Felix leaned forward and put his face into Sylvain’s shoulder. He was. He really was.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my attempt at writing them something more lighthearted. I'll get it right next time


End file.
